Saturday, November 28, 2009

Lizzard -- Poetry 2009

Lizzie aka Lizzard - my phantom cat…
her characteristic slinking resembles
reptilian behavior; her white paws
propel her crouching form across lawns
or under cover of shrubs. I half expect
if I grabbed her tail it would disconnect
in my hand and eventually grow back…
What terrorized this marmalade tabby
whose fur blends with summer’s dried
grass or falls yellowed leaves?
If we mirror our pets, I relate to her
discomfort with humans to a degree:
Eye contact is difficult for both of us.
In part, I am uncomfortable in some
social situations - like Lizzie I become
an observer reticent to connections.
A classic wallflower enduring the event
until I feel its safe to slink to my car;
finding safety in my studio, I relax
into creativity until the next event.


Friday, November 27, 2009

Black Lace -- Poetry 2009

Highlighted tree branches
throw black lace shadows
saturated with alabaster glow;
embellished asphalt ribbon
so bright there is no need
for flashlight’s weak beam.
Puffs of breath develop
luminosity then disappear
leaving no trace in chilly air.
Moon’s platinum light blanches
surroundings to shades of gray;
Corgis appear black and white
passing in and out of cover.
Muted sounds, steady pace,
moonlight walking meditation.


Winter Storms -- Poetry 2009

Beauty and chaos:
High tides, high winds…
howling day and night.
Floating debris, gale salt spray
devour edges of existence;
Sand shifts; beaches degenerate.
Chunks of dune grass
dislodge beneath your feet.
Trees adrift - limbed anacondas -
writhe and twist in ocean swells.
Copse precariously perched,
undermined by savage assault
falls prey to oceans determination.
Grey shroud of scoured sky
hemorrhages with discordant sea.


Thursday, November 26, 2009

That Pause -- Poetry 2009

Have you felt that pause, that fearful pause?
The moment before things changed…
guts tied in a knot, throat constricted,
taking short futile breaths, body held
tight as if you could slow down
the inevitable by compressing time.
There is freedom within this event,
there is freedom without; either way…
Try to catch the deluge in a paper cup.


Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Kismet -- Poetry 2009

So often it’s the tale of reaching
A certain point in your life…
Things radically open up.
If you are aware and ready
to take big risks nothing
can stop the forward progress.
A locomotive in full control
barreling down the tracks.
All the invested time and effort,
perseverance and sweat,
angst and renewal of spirit
overcomes all obstacles.
Synchronicity, kismet, fate…
Whatever you call being
in the right place at the right time.



Despite seasonal rains
drumming day through night,
my dreams have dried up…
withered to dust becoming
a thin film coating desperation.
Dampness pervades cells;
Rawness seeps into layers;
Sounds stick in my throat.
Density epoxies my tongue
trapping words behind teeth.
Inclement images rattle
evoking dark nightmares
that prevent restful sleep
during tumultuous storms.


Tuesday, November 24, 2009

What will my Children Save?

Even after all these years
so much of who I am rests
in my parents definition…
Their energy lingers within
treasures dragged cross country;
objects imbued with their
combined character traits.
Dad’s suspenders stretched
and stained hang on a hook;
he wore them and a belt.
His tool box sits in the garage
filled with his preferred tools.
When I do outside chores, I wear
the hooded jacket I made for him.
Mom’s scarves reside in a box;
The wool one is especially warm.
A Singer sewing machine,
her high school graduation gift,
inhabits a living room corner
ready to perform assigned tasks.
The Lane hope chest protects
wool sweaters and coats.
All lovingly cared for to last
their lifetime and beyond.


Storm Warning -- Poetry 2009

Storm Warning

Clouds scream across sullen sky.
Winds up dislodging tattered
leaves; branches barren of life
rattle and clack their bones.
Pushed to unnatural limits
by constant gusting torture,
limbs splinter - free falling
to lawns, sidewalks, roads.
Streets amass a thick coating
of evergreen needles, cones,
twigs, leaves; a sodden mass
of fragments ground to pulp
clogs storm drains; puddles
expand in circumference
responding to rain’s torrents.


Question -- Poetry 2009

In one sense, it would be the sixth one…
I question the level of my existence.
Am I too late to be an artistic bloomer?
When will the Universe and serendipity collide?
A big bang exploding into a proverbial break;
I dream about that meld of attention
infusing my art with importance to collectors.
A self critic rides my back with goading
disparaging remarks; negative mindset
erodes my perceived intrinsic value and worth.
Second guessing a direction, this introverted
being just desires to live in studio releasing
creative out pourings infused with Zen
sensibility, simplicity and mindfulness.


Saturday, November 14, 2009

Trapped in a Box -- Poetry 2009

I can’t recall mom’s voice;
I can’t remember her touch.
She passed away
on December 23, 1992.
Browning photographs
in a worn album record her
early years; this life is fading;
brittle time line images are
mere shadows disintegrating…
loosing their substance.
My childhood recollections
and adult memories scatter
due to her physical absence.
Mom’s plastic box of scarves
perches on my closet shelf:
Silk floral, geometric designs;
Wool woven in Herringbone;
Stockinette knits with cables.
Carefully folded scarves
imbued with Mom’s scent…
one whiff momentarily
reconstitutes her presence.


Tasks -- Poetry 2009

for words;
but checks
on to-do lists
or capitals
for DONE:
bills paid;
laundry clean;
counters clear;
dishes washed;
beds changed;
food cooked;


Saturday, November 7, 2009

Character Chameleon -- Poetry 2009

In childhood I hid in books...
read every book in the tiny
NE Elementary School Library.
Stretching my imagination
to become the main character
who overcame every obstacle;
achieved success; saved the day;
and lived happily ever after...
that I couldn't imagine in my life.

Now I've fallen into daydreams.
I can be who I'd want to be...
overcome obstacles put in my path;
run away from the ho-hum; be wild,
consciously outrageous and free.
Work things out in the safety of mind
where repetition of an event
allows for a better outcome.
I'm all that I can't seem to elicit
from myself in the real world.


Higher Elevations -- Poetry 2009

Miss the invigorating snow...
winter storms back East
cleared to turquoise skies;
brilliant reflections off
expansive white snow equaled
a necessity for sunglasses.

Pacific Northwest grey
wears me down.
Pounding rain,
hiss of tires,
soggy shoes,
dull rain gear,
wears me out.

Admittedly a night owl,
short light days could
be slept through...
an artistic hibernation
due to late night
creative surges.

Traveling to the passes,
I could catch snowflakes
on my tongue,
leave boot prints
or make snow angles.
Winter at higher elevations,
would result in
experiencing raw cheeks,
numb fingers, and a nose
nipped by the chill.


Restless -- Poetry 2009

Sitting with pen in hand
mind wanders...
visions of dog walks,
grocery lists, cleaning,
art work to prepare
for upcoming deadlines.
Dishwasher water sloshing;
Dogs are out for the count...
storm squalls slam
their burdens
against siding and roof -
little respite tonight.
Restless, unfocused,
waiting with pen in hand.


Facing Blank Mat Board - Poetry 2009

Computer crashing
emphasized the amount of time
spent updating, emailing, blogging...

Visual euphoria!
Rampant creation of collages
occupies my time -
temporarily lost my words
to tangible tactile representations
on blank mat board
instead of blank notebook.